


Dreams

by Sauffie



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauffie/pseuds/Sauffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike has another nightmare. Another prediction. But this time he has a name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

Mike woke up with a start. His heart was pounding when he sat up on his bed and tears were running down his cheeks.He took his head in his hands to try to shake off the horrible images still going before his eyes.

There was a plane crash. An ambulance, people crying. A red-haired woman dressed in a very elegant black dress clutching a tissue to her heart, make-up smeared across her pale face. And then there was this sign, lying on a coffin. Harvey Specter 01/22/1972-11/27/2014.

He’s had that kind of dreams since he was a child. They would wake him up a night and he would cry until his grandmother managed to soothe him back to sleep. “Those are just nightmares Michael. Go back to sleep.”, she would always say, running a hand up and down his back.

Growing up, he realized that they weren’t just nightmares. They were predictions. He started check the local news and the Internet and reading about a murder or an accident he had seen in his dreams. But was always too late and his visions never gave him enough information. He couldn’t help these people. He could only see whatever horrible thing was going to happen in his dream and try to move on.

**But he this time he had a name.**

Mike opened his computer hastily and typed “Harvey Specter” in the search field. A couple of links came up with an exact match : lawyer at Pearson Specter.

Mike scribbled the address on a sticky note.

  
When he arrived in front of the modern building, he could feel his heart rate quicken. How the hell was he going to explain this ?

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and locked his bike.

He had never done that. He had never tried to explain his nightmares to anybody and now he had to tell a man, _a lawyer for Christ’s sake_ , that he was going to die in a plane crash.

He took another much-needed deep breath and stuck to a small group of people to dodge security.

Once inside the elevator, he realized he didn’t know which floor he was supposed to go to.

There was a beautiful young woman standing next to him in the back of the cabin. Long brown hair, nice outfit, high heels. The whole shebang. She could definitely be a lawyer.

Mike smiled at her and she blushed and smiled back.

“Would u happen to know which floor is Pearson Specter ?”, he asked.

“I’m going there actually.”, she replied and smiled shyly.

“Great. I’ll follow you then.”, Mike smiled back.

The elevator stopped a dozen times before the beautiful woman stepped out, Mike in tow.

“Thank you.”, Mike told her and she smiled and disappeared into a corridor.

Ok. Now find Mr. Harvey Specter.

He was about to ask the receptionist for directions when he spotted _the_ red-haired woman.

“Excuse-me ?”, he exclaimed, rushing towards her. “Do you know a Harvey Specter ?”, he asked.

She raised an eyebrow and looked to her left. A man appeared in a doorway, an amused smirk on his face.

“Who’s asking ?”, he said.

Mike quickly surveyed the man. He was breathtakingly handsome. Way too young and too handsome to die.

Mike saw the name on the door.

“Mr. Specter.”, he said. “You’re Harvey Specter ?”

“Who’s asking ?”, the man repeated calmly.

“Sorry, Sir, I’m Mike.”, Mike said, holding out his hand. “Could we talk for a moment ? In private ?”

The man did not shake his hand, instead he looked at the offered hand with a disgusted look.

“Do you have an appointment ?”

“No, I don’t, you’d know it if I did, right ?”, Mike rolled his eyes.

“That’s right…”, the man seemed to think for a second. “Why do you want to talk to me ?”

“Are you armed ?”, the red-haired woman asked worryingly.

“What ? No !”, Mike exclaimed and he raised his hands above his head. “You can search me if you want.”

“That won’t be necessary.”, the man smirked. “Come in.”

Mike followed him into his office.

“Sit down.”, he said, pointing at the chair across from him. “What did you want to talk about.”

Mike cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“First of all Sir, I’d like to point out that I’m a totally functioning person, I did not escape from a mental hospital, I am completely normal.”, he said in one breath.

“The way you barged into my firm is anything but normal.”, the man remarked with another smirk.

“The thing is, Sir, that I, uh,… I’m a medium.”, Mike confessed.

“A medium…”, Harvey repeated with a barely hidden smile.

“Yes, Sir, I had a dream last night and I’m here to make sure that what happened in my dream doesn’t happen in reality.”

The man quirked an eyebrow. Mike didn’t know if it was pity, interest or even for the fun of it, but the man seemed inclined to listen to him.

“You’re getting on a plane today, aren’t you ?”, Mike asked.

“Yes…”, the man narrowed his eyes. “I’m visiting my family for Thanksgiving.”

“Don’t.”, Mike snapped. “Don’t get on that plane or you’ll die.”

“Is that what your dream was about ?”, the man frowned.

“Please Sir, you’ve got to listen to me.”, Mike insisted. “I saw a plane crash, and then your secretary crying over a coffin. There was your name on the coffin.”, he added, looking down. “You were born on January 22nd, right ?”

The man nodded.

“That’s what the sign on the coffin said.”, Mike sighed.

The red-haired woman entered his office.

“This information isn’t confidential, it’s on our website.”, she said, her arms folded across her chest. “Harvey, I have no idea what this kid wants but you’ve got an appointment in 20.”

“Please Sir.”, Mike pleaded. “You’ve got to listen to me. I never get to save or even help the people I see in my dreams. There must be a reason why they gave me your name.”

“They ?”, Harvey asked.

“They, He, She, whatever.”, Mike shook his head. “The person who gave me this gift.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes and began to play with a baseball, his eyes never leaving Mike’s.

“You’re gonna die if you get on that plane, Sir.”, Mike said in the most serious voice he could produce. “I’m not joking.”, he turned his head to the woman. “You were in my dream too. You were crying.”

The red-haired woman’s face remained impassive if only for the slight twitch of her upper lip.

“That’s a great story, but we’ve got work to do here.”, she deadpanned.

“I’m not leaving.”, Mike said. “I’m not leaving this building until I know for sure that you’re not going to get on a plane today.”

The man _laughed_. An honest to God laugh.

“I’m sorry kid, but it’s Thanksgiving. I’m not cancelling my trip.”, he smiled.

“Can you drive instead ?”, Mike asked.

“Look, you seem nice and everything and I’m truly sorry for you, it must awful to have constant nightmares. But I’ve got work to do.”, he said. “I don’t want to have to call security but I will if you don’t move.”

The man got back up and motioned for the door.

“Sir please, I’m begging you, don’t get on that plane !”, Mike almost cried as the red-haired woman escorted him back to the elevator.

 

“ _Attention all passengers to Boston…_ ”

Harvey grabbed his hand luggage and walked to the boarding gate.

He looked at his ticket one last time and smiled to the stewardess.

“Excuse me Miss, when is the next flight to Boston if I decide not to board now ?”

“2 hours Sir.”, she replied with a bright smile.

“Thank you.”

Harvey slid his tickets back into his coat pocket and walked to the nearest counter to buy new ones.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash in the terminal and people started running and screaming.

Harvey ran to the window overlooking the tarmac and he saw it : the plane he was supposed to be seated in had just crashed in the middle of taking off. It was all flames and broken pieces.

“Yep.”, Donna answered.

“Donna.”, he said, his throat dry. “Did you get the name of the kid that came to me this morning ?”

“Mike, I think.”

“Is that all we know about him ?”

“Yes, why ?”

“He was right.”


End file.
